


Beyond Intentions

by giggling_bubble



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Closure, Disappearance, Disappointment, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Intuition, Misunderstandings, Personal Growth, Relationship(s), Second mom - Freeform, Secret Identity, Secrets, Surrogacy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-10-24 14:16:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10743384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giggling_bubble/pseuds/giggling_bubble
Summary: When Nathalie picks her career over relationships, effectively shunning the idea of family, she didn't realize she would get both.Life doesn't always work out as planned; sometimes due to the planning a life. This was the case for Nathalie Sancoeur.





	1. Chapter 1

Everyone saw the work relationship Nathalie and Gabriel Agreste had as a well oiled machine. They could exchange complex unspoken communication effortlessly. It was as if they were in each other's heads. Crazy to think she'd started out as his wife's assistant.

Adrien was eight months old when his mother hired Nathalie Sancoeur. It was all coincidental to Nathalie. She was freshly out of grande ecole with an MBA and a clean record. Her two impressive internships and raving recommendations didn't hurt. Mrs. Agreste knew she would be perfect the day she met her. Nathalie was in a black two-piece, jacket and knee length skirt, with scarlet accents. Her hair was half up and half down; it fell half way to her waist ending in loose ringlets. It was beautiful. She wore sensible pumps, black with scarlet on bottom, and nude silks.

"Do you have any experience with children?" It hadn't been the question Nathalie had anticipated out the gate. In fact, not at all, considering the job she was applying for had not said anything about babysitting.

Nathalie had grimaced when she said she didn't. "I've never even held a baby before," she admitted. She had some experience, yes, but it was by no means relevant.

The child was squirming in Celine's arms like a boneless doll making wet blurping noises. Out of the side of his mouth, as if in slow motion, a glob of clear, oozing slime dripped down his cheek and onto his mother's hand.

Mrs. Agreste smiled sweetly at Nathalie, a mischievous glint in her eye, "No time like the present," and held her infant out to the rattled potential hire. He reached out his arms to her as if she were his favorite thing in existence; babbling happily.

Nathalie's breath caught as she held the squirming, squishy, warmth of a human in her arms. He giggled and flopped. Nathalie quickly shifted her grip to accommodate by safely tucking him against her chest. "Mrs. Agreste...?" She was nervous, but maintained her cool. Adrien reached out to grab a handful of her hair and shoved it into his slimy mouth.

"Yes, Nathalie?" Mrs. Agreste had absentmindedly pulled out her cell phone to check her messages.

Nathalie frowned, staring down at the small child. "Is he always this...warm?"

Mrs. Agreste's pleasant chuckle bubbled over, "Yes. He is always warm. He's a baby. They're all like that."

What Mrs. Agreste had failed to notice was that Nathalie was referring to being warmed throughout like someone had just doused her in a heated pool. Her gaze met the bright green eyes that stared back and she knew she was screwed. He warmed her heart and, to be honest, it was completely unfamiliar and unexpected. This diminutive human being, instantly and effortlessly, had an immense power over her that she'd never allowed. Disconcerting was an understatement.

"You're hired," Mrs. Agreste beamed and reclaimed her squirming child. "He likes you."

Adrien squealed and Nathalie gulped. She was a goner.

* * *

It was three years later, almost to the day, that the reclusive husband of her employer sought her out. Nathalie had never met the man. He worked constantly and Nathalie was determined to keep her employment strictly professional, not personal, opting to avoid all functions not requiring her to execute her strengths. Mrs. Agreste didn't seem to need Nathalie for networking, as she was practically a savant, but she did need her organizational skills like a flame needs oxygen.

She was sitting at her desk when the phone rang, "You've reached the office of--"

"Nathalie?"

Interrupted, hello to you, too, Mr. Agreste. Wait, did he just call her Nathalie? She had spoken to the man a time or two, to be sure, but it was a rare occurrence. Plus, his voice was unmistakable. She wasn't sure what to expect of his call today; especially with how she'd been addressed so informally.

"Yes, Mr. Agreste, sir?" Nathalie immediately grabbed a sticky note and pen.

"Could you help me to locate my wife?"

Nathalie groaned internally. He hated asking people for help just as much as she did, according to his wife. No, she didn't really know where his wife was, but she could look in her planner.

"It says 'Adrien' with a smiley face."

Gabriel audibly growled on the other end of the line. Nathalie was getting a bad feeling. From what knowledge she had acquired of the man, he was calm, collected, and rigidly in control when at work; a male version of herself. A growl was not the norm.

"Something wrong, sir?" Nerves seeping in to her tone. Nerves she always held in check. _Get a hold of yourself, Nathalie._

"Come to my office."

Nathalie figured she had the time, "Of course." Although, truth be told, she'd always hoped to avoid Mr. Agreste. His wife had painted him in an unreasonable light. 

The driver showed up at the office to give her a lift to the Agreste Estate. Mrs. Agreste worked in the studio building across town. Her office was on the staging floor and Nathalie's was in the lobby. Mr.Agreste's office, and personal design space, was at their home. This would be the first time she'd ever set foot in their house and she couldn't ignore the sense of dread creeping up her spine. That sick feeling in her stomach that she was somehow encroaching on a private domain she had no right to.

Alas, that feeling was pacified as soon as she walked through the front door. It was, at least not by her definition of the word, a home. An ease washed over her as she calmed by the sharp angles, straight lines, extreme cleanliness, and muted, cool neutrals. Yes, this was definitely more like an office building.

She was met by a young man, his name was Jacques, and he introduced himself as M. Agreste's assistant. There was a tenseness to his jaw, a clenching at his temples, and the name 'M. Agreste' left his mouth like it was doused in petrol just waiting for a spark. To say it was vitriolic would be an immense understatement. Nathalie wondered just exactly what kind of man M. Agreste was. Apparently, a stark contrast to his overly bubbly, affectionate wife. Nathalie felt a smile tug at her lips.

"Don't knock," the man grumbled as she approached the door.

"Noted." She pushed the door open and was surprised when she walked in to find Adrien, Mrs. Agreste's toddler, sitting in the middle of his father's office.

"Sir?" Her eyebrow rose as she glanced at M. Agreste. He was sitting against his desk, his hands clasped at the edge, with his ankles crossed.

"Yes, Mlle. Sancoeur," he nodded, "Apparently."

Nathalie was confused as Mrs. Agreste's planner said _Adrien :)._ This was her son, Adrien, sitting on the floor playing with his dinosaurs. She felt herself wince at the way he'd said 'apparently' as if this was something he was used to. Did he assume she was used to being blindsided by his wife?

"I don't understand."

He sighed heavily and lifted himself forward to crouch next to Adrien, "I'll be right back, buddy," and mussed the boy's hair playfully. He gestured to Nathalie to follow him. She did as asked and entered a small room that looked like a library. It was lined with bookshelves, there was a comfortable looking chair, and a small table. The window overlooked the garden.

"You didn't know."

Conflicted and confused, Nathalie whipped around to glance at a bookshelf. Fear and panic ran down her back as she realized her job might be in jeopardy here. What was she supposed to know? Instead of coming up with some poorly-contrived lie she opted for the truth, with a sigh, "I have no idea what you are referring to."

"My wife," he whispered, "Has been disappearing, frequently, and she is using people in her life to hide her activities. Today, Adrien, to you. She knew he would be with me. Celine was banking on my not calling you today."

"I see."

"There had to be something blocked out in her schedule to excuse her absence," he went on. Then he ran his hand through his hair, "You are excused, Nathalie."

"Sir!?" She was confused and worried now. They had delved this far into this that he at least owed her a semblance of an explanation.

"You can't do anything for me. You can go."

Nathalie turned on him and glared, "No, thank you, M. Agreste."

He turned a withering gaze at her. Nathalie tried hard not to smirk because she was sure that worked supremely well on his employees. If that had been the case, she might have acquiesced to his non-verbal demand. Although, 1) she was not his employee and 2) she had the same look in her own arsenal.

When she didn't move, he rocked on the balls of his feet, "Celine has been acting...unusually." He glanced at her to gauge any reaction. Nathalie maintained her neutral disposition. "There have been instances, phone calls and whatnot. She's been disappearing at odd times of day, at night." There was another once over of Nathalie. She wondered what he was looking for. Whatever it was, he didn't find it. A little smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, "You really are remarkable, Mlle Sancoeur."

Her eyes widened. "Pardon?"

He shook his head, his stony expression returned as if he hadn't said anything, and continued, "My wife has been surprisingly organized. I can now only assume she has you to thank for that." She had been a mess when Nathalie took over. Clicking his tongue humorlessly, like he'd been fooled, he shrugged, "I don't suppose you'd replace my assistant, Jacques by any chance? He was issued his termination this morning. He has until the end of the week."

Jacques. The man who had greeted her at the entrance. No wonder he'd looked like he could shoot daggers out of his eyeballs at any moment.

"How long has Jacques worked for you, M. Agreste?"

He glanced at his feet, "Three weeks."

"And the one before?"

He cleared his throat, "A week." Gabriel looked at her, as if gauging her reaction.

Nathalie smirked, "Is your wife going to be angry if you steal her assistant?"

This time, he smiled, "I don't know and I don't really care, Mlle. Sancoeur."

"Another thing," she held her hand up passively, "It is Nathalie. If we are to work closely, sir, that formality will get old, fast."

Gabriel nodded his head, "Of course." Her request was understandable. 

Nathalie hadn't always disliked her last name, but in the last couple years she'd worked for Mrs. Agreste, she'd come to despise it.

Feeling a bit conflicted with Mrs. Agreste's recent actions, something she and M. Agreste had in common, it was tempting. "When should you like me to report, sir."

* * *

 After the stealing of her much more competent assistant, Mrs. Agreste decided to become friends with her. M. Agreste encouraged Nathalie get closer acquainted with his wife. Since Nathalie was no longer her assistant, Mrs. Agreste tried to turn her into a confidant. In all actuality, she did like Nathalie immensely and it wasn't going to change just because she was now working for her husband.

Mrs. Agreste was lounging on the loveseat in M. Agreste's office when Nathalie came in with a glass of water with lemon. She dropped the magazine into her lap with a dazzling smile, "Nathalie, I'm going to make you my pet."

"Pardon?" Nathalie was completely caught off guard. It wasn't that she wasn't a people person, but she was very poor at affectionate interaction. There had to be a strong emotional attachment for Nathalie to open up and so far, in this household, only one person fit that bill. Although, he was only three and a half feet tall and couldn't even say her name. Adrien called her 'Nadowlie' and 'Nada' for short. That was the Agreste that held her heart in the palm of his itty-bitty, often stickum covered, hand.

"I would like to spoil you," she smiled, "I promise it won't hurt. You can say no."

Nathalie smirked, "I'm not sure what 'spoil' would entail."

"Ah," she sighed happily, "Let me show you." Celine put the magazine down and unfolded herself out of the chair, "Here. I'll demonstrate." Her hands reached out to remove the sticks that were holding Nathalie's hair into a tight bun on the top of her head. Nathalie's hair fell in a cascade down her shoulders and back, "You have beautiful hair, Nathalie. I don't see why you keep it tied up."

Nathalie chuckled to herself. Yes, she did know why she kept it tied up. That first day she'd met her little man, whom she affectionately referred to as stinker and little monster, when he was in trouble, and moppet any other time. He was especially fond of moppet because when she'd call him over to her his nose would crinkle and his eyes would sparkle as a brilliant grin danced across his cheeks. She delighted in learning that she was one of his favorite people as he buried his face into her bosom and whispered, "I vuv you, Nada." Often, she'd find him sneaking into her office to crawl up onto her lap. It wasn't uncommon for him to fall asleep and she'd find herself putting him to bed for his nap.

Mrs. Agreste fussed with her hair for a moment, lifting pieces here and dropping pieces there, before she sighed, "My God, this is just like silk."

Nathalie blushed, "Thank you, ma'am."

"I do wish you'd allow me to play with it from time to time," she grinned as she peeked to catch Nathalie's reaction. Nathalie just blinked in surprise. "I'm going to take that as a tentative 'yes,'" she snickered as she tied her hair back into the bun she'd originally worn, "And I'll be mindful of Adrien."

Nathalie couldn't bring herself to say no to her. Even though she didn't entirely trust Mrs. Agreste, with her flightiness and bubbly personality, she did believe the intentions were sincere. It was strange how much her former employer desired her company. Nathalie often wondered if she were lonely. She knew her employer and her former employer had a rough marriage. It wasn't difficult to see how tense they were in each other's company. Nathalie much more related to her current employer, but his wife still pulled at her heartstrings now and again and lately she'd been hoping to understand her a bit more.

"All right," Nathalie nodded, "Sure."

* * *

It had been ten years since Nathalie had allowed Celine to start changing her appearance. Her glasses were gone and replaced with contacts. Celine suggested she cut her hair to frame her face. It fit Nathalie for a month before she decided to grow it back out. The suits were a welcome addition to her wardrobe since Nathalie would rather not have to shop for those, let alone pay for them, on her own.

Today, Mrs. Agreste's intentions had shifted. For years, Celine had dressed Nathalie in professional wear and the occasional semi-casual outfit for their business outings, but today was completely different. Celine leaned back with a grin on her face and a hazy look in her eye. Nathalie wasn't so sure she wasn't on something. Her hands clasped across her face with a smile pulling at the edge of her lips. The dress she'd picked out for Nathalie accentuated her in all the right ways. Celine pulled her hair out to let it hang down her back. Nathalie was quite pretty; especially when she smiled. Her crystal blue eyes shined. Celine knew this.

"You will be stunning!" Celine cheered, "I'm going to send you to this weekend's party in my stead. I will insist Gabriel escort you properly."

Nathalie's jaw dropped, "Ma'am, I couldn't possibly..."

"You COULD possibly. I'm going to make sure of it. Gabriel doesn't get out enough and I'd rather he have someone go that can understand the man than for him to feel obligated to suffer by my side. I am a social butterfly, after all, and my husband is not. He never has been." Nathalie must have given a look that said _obviously_ because Celine snickered, "You can ask."

"Pardon?"

"You can ask why we're still married," Celine gestured emphatically with her arms, "Why we got married in the first place. Whatever you like. Come on, we've been friends for so long, Nathalie. I know you have to wonder."

Nathalie was struck silent. She had no idea where this had come from or how it was any of her business.

_**[Mrs. Agreste** _

"Okay, I'll answer them all for you, Nathalie, thanks for asking," she said playfully, "Well, you see, I was a student of Mathilde Agreste when her son Gabriel became a successful designer. Her son, practically asexual, refused to peddle himself to the women in society and worked far harder than he played. She insisted he get a woman and marry. That is where I came in, obviously," Celine twirled around with a flourish, "Beautiful, graceful, and ass-stamped mother approved." She popped her hip and smirked, "Gabriel was doing exactly what his mother told him to, like a good little boy, as she was the ONLY person Gabriel ever listened to. Ever. Still to this day."

Her humorless snort was cold and very unlike Mrs. Agreste, "Looks like our business agreement was a match made in heaven, and after the media approved of our courting, Gabriel offered a proposition--we marry. Glorious, yes? Romantic? It looked like it on paper."

Celine dance across the room and grinned, "You see, Gabriel and I were never really intimate much. He didn't ever touch me. Then people started spreading rumors of my pregnancy. You see, I wasn't pregnant, but people decided to talk. Gabriel's mother decided it was a wonderful idea to produce an heir and give her a grandchild. I couldn't, obviously, as a baby would ruin my model form," she grimaced, "Gabriel would have have desired that just as well. On more than one occasion he lamented I didn't have a motherly body. Stash that away for later," she said with a wink. "That is where YOU came in."

**_Mrs. Agreste]_ **

Suddenly, Nathalie couldn't breathe. It felt like the entire room was shrinking and the light was disappearing. She could hear the whooshing sounds of her heart in her ears.

"Ma'am..." gasping in ragged pants was NOT something Nathalie did. Ever. Until today. So _this_ is what a panic attack feels like.

"See, I knew I had a time frame I had to get it accomplished, you see? He was growing up so quickly. I remembered Business Administration and when the application came across my desk it was like I'd been struck by the hand of God. There was a name that sounded so familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. I had to find out for sure, you see? He was still young enough he'd remember your voice. Then, before I knew it, there you were. You were standing in front of me just as plain as day and he wanted you. He _knew_ it was you."

Nathalie was now on her knees gasping for oxygen. This couldn't be happening. The room was spinning and the taste of bile was crawling up her throat ever steadily towards the surface.

"Babies know their 'mom's' voice, Nathalie. As the surrogate, you had to know he'd recognize yours."

"HOW?!?!" she cried, hot tears dripping down her cheeks.

Celine leaned down next to her and patted her shoulder gently. She really did like Nathalie, but she had to hear this. "My husband has connections. I realize it was supposed to be anonymous, but I may have peeked at the application before they whited out your information." She had the grace to look guilty, slightly, before sighing, "And I found you. You and Gabriel really are a match made in heaven, though, I must say. You are the female version of him to the letter."

"Mrs. Agreste," she gasped, overwhelmed, "I don't understand."

"I want you to be there for our son," she whispered sweetly, "Because I can't do this anymore. I just can't." She slipped Nathalie a medallion with a scrolled up piece of paper inside, "Keep it close. When Adrien is an adult you can tell him. He just wouldn't understand right now. He really is the only reason I've stuck around for as long as I have. I'm so SO proud of him and I know you will be a wonderful substitute mother figure for him, Nathalie. Who better to take care of him in my absence than the woman who gave birth to him?"

"No..." Nathalie was clutching the medallion to her chest.

"Good-bye, Nathalie, and thank you for giving me the greatest gift anyone ever could. Adrien is the reason I am still here, after all." With a gentle kiss placed to Nathalie's temple, Mrs. Agreste was gone. Nathalie was only barely aware of the sound of her retreating heels on the marble floor. It was there that Gabriel found her less than an hour later.

Nathalie heard the muffled sound of someone speaking as if underwater. She couldn't make out what hey were saying. Her head was throbbing, the cold marble chilling her entire right side where she'd collapsed, and steel blue eyes staring at her with concern.

"Nathalie--" he called, "What happened?!"

She blinked and finally caught her breath with a guttural gasp, "She's gone, sir." Nathalie stood and began to brush herself off. It was easy for Nathalie to compartmentalize when the shock had worn off. The way she was taken off guard just brought on too many emotions at once. She was still a little anxious at the idea of seeing Adrien again. He had grown into a well-put-together young man; polite, kind, compassionate, and hard working. He did everything he could to make his father proud. He'd be heartbroken and Nathalie would subsequently be as a result. _Our son._ The way Celine said 'our' conveyed her meaning clearly enough. She was saying Adrien was just as much her son.

"Celine?" Gabriel stood up and ran through the house looking for her. Nathalie just sat on the nearest chair listening to him calling his wife's name. Thankfully, Adrien was at his piano teacher's for the afternoon. Gabriel returned looking ashen, "Where did she go? Did she say anything?"

"She's not coming back," Nathalie sighed sadly.

"I need to know everything."

Nathalie would tell him everything he needed to know. Celine was unhappy with their marriage and that Adrien was her world. She couldn't handle living an unfulfilled life anymore. Everything had gone sour. Gabriel nodded and said he'd prefer to keep it between them until he could figure out how to break it to Adrien and the press. Nathalie silently agreed that would be the best option.

She did not tell him she knew of their business arrangement type marriage. She did not tell him she knew they'd neglected each other as husband and wife. She didn't tell him that his wife tried to arrange a relationship between them. She did not tell him she was the surrogate for his son. She did not tell him that his wife had sought out and found her by being sneaky and smart; using an infant Adrien to find her, nonetheless.

They still didn't know where she was all those times she was unaccounted for. Gabriel didn't seem to care. What he did care about was finding her now, for Adrien. He felt she owed him an explanation or, at the very least, an apology. Nathalie couldn't tell him about the secret in her medallion. It was for Adrien.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash back to sixteen years prior where the whole train started rolling.

16 Years Prior--

Nathalie sat in her dorm room, alone, as she liked it. A book was propped in her lap and her untouched mail sat next to her. There was a chapter she'd been dying to finish since she got out of class and the mail could wait. Nathalie was, after all, an avid bookworm. Her favorite books fell into the historical dramas and mystery. Although, truth be told, she did dither now and again in the occasional romance or comedy when her heart needed a little lift. She wasn't one to ever admit that, to anyone, because she wasn't interested in being a Mrs. Anyone...not ever. Sex, occasionally, relationships just didn't seem to fit with her work ethic. Nathalie might be a hopeless romantic at heart, but she was a very practical non-romantic at life. The goal was to get a good, high paying job, work her tail off for the first twenty years, and then retire and party to her little heart's content until the bank is bled dry.

She glanced at her watch and sighed. Her shift down at the bank was in a couple hours. Nathalie loved organization of any sort; spreadsheets, calendars, flow charts, etc. There was something cathartic about rearranging a schedule to maximize efficiency that just made her heart beat fonder. When she'd applied to work at the bank, as a teller, they noted how she was naturally organized and asked if she'd be interested in working in their records room. The idea of poring over years of ledgers and budgets in an effort to digitize it all to a spreadsheet would make most people cringe, but Nathalie felt like she'd found her digital chocolate--the perfect college job for her. It paid well, too, which was an added bonus.

Nathalie didn't have money. She didn't come from money, either. Nathalie was putting herself through business school with a grant and whatever money she could scrounge up. Her bank account currently sat at €8.39. It was payday tomorrow, after all, but with it being a new semester she had to purchase books which always made a sizeable divot in her personal finances. It wasn't like she couldn't survive on peanut butter, rice, and ramen, per usual, for a while. It didn't sound like a good option, but she could handle it.

Today, fate had a few different plans for her. Nathalie sifted through her mail before finding a little yellow envelope. On the outside it said 'office of accounts.' _Joy!_ She opened it, sarcasm still sitting heavily in her, and scanned down the letter. The color drained from her face as the shaking letter fell to her lap. Her hands covered her mouth to stifle the soft gasp. Annual fees had increased this new year by €200 per program and there were a hundred more euros in additional fees. She owed €10,015 due by the end of the term. Okay, Nathalie was good with numbers, and even she knew that with just her current job she'd never be able to make enough to pay that off in the short amount of time.

"WHAT AM I GOING TO DO!" she shrieked softly in her room. Her hands went through her waist lenght chestnut strands before she nodded resolutely. She knew what she had to do. She'd head down to the admissions office and see if there were anymore loan options. She was _so_ close to graduation that she couldn't just drop out. That was unacceptable.

Nathalie arrived down at the admissions office and was directed to financial aid and accounting. Once there, they told her there were no loans available for which she qualified. She wasn't a new student, an athlete, foreign, or a single mother. There had already been aid granted for her income status, but otherwise she was up a creek.

"But I have this pamphlet if you'd like to look for other financing options available to students." The woman slipped it to her and she scanned through it.

There were all kinds of applications for lab studies, too risky. Medication trials, again, too risky. Selling blood and plasma, didn't pay enough. Sperm donation, she obviously couldn't participate. Egg donation, wouldn't pay enough for the risk considering it would be arduous, painful, and require unnatural hormone manipulation that didn't sit well with Nathalie. Although, she gave this one a lot of thought since it did pay €8,000. Then...AHA--something caught her eye. Surrogacy. Nathalie had never contemplated carrying a child before. It wasn't that she was opposed, but she just had no intention of being a mother. This sounded like the perfect option because it paid anywhere from €30,000-€45,000. That was the best option for her. After graduation, if she budgeted everything right, she'd be able to get an apartment, clothes, pay down her already burgeoning student loans, and maybe get a nice job to sustain herself.

* * *

 Nathalie found herself at the clinic downtown over her lunch break. Her toes were tapping absentmindedly inside of her shoes when the receptionist called her name.

The girl was bubbly. She picked up the phone with a flick of her wrist and a smile on her face. Every word came out an octave too high and sounded forced; fake. Nathalie wondered if anyone actually bought the facade. If she had been working that job she'd be the antithesis of this woman; from her shrill voice, her exaggerated expressions, her pixie cut blonde hair, the revealing and garish clothing. No. Just no.

"Mlle. Sancoeur," she smiled, "Our review coordinator will see you now."

She followed the woman down a long white hallway, with pictures of wombs filled with babies in various stages, to the office at the very end. Nathalie entered and sat where the lady gestured before a portly man in a white lab coat entered. He sat at the large desk, clasped his hands in front of him, and leaned forward with a smile.

"Good afternoon," the man offered one of his hands to her to shake, "I am Dr. Malone. I'm here to interview you today and get this application process started. Could I ask a few questions?"

"Yes," Nathalie nodded. She'd never been particularly verbose so she wasn't going to start now.

"All right. Mlle. Sancoeur, what made you contemplate surrogacy?"

She breathed in deeply, "I am at university and I have found myself in the need of a financial boon."

"Ah, yes, that is a very common reason around here," he smiled warmly, "Do you have any health concerns you'd like to address? Physically or psychologically?" He was scanning through the clipboard of all the info she'd already provided.

"No, sir," she shook her head. Her eyesight wasn't the greatest, but that was all. She wasn't going to be supplying any genetic material to this child so that was irrelevant. Mentally, this was a merely a business transaction. It wouldn't be an issue.

"Do you smoke?"

"No."

"Drink?"

"A glass of wine occasionally."

"Do you use recreational drugs?"

"No."

"Do you put yourself in risky situations; parties included?"

"No."

"Have you ever had any venereal diseases?"

"No."

"Are you currently dating anyone?"

"No."

"Sexually active?"

"No."

After he'd thoroughly figured out she was a boring excuse for a woman, with no allergies, would eat better if she had more money, and was not opposed to following a particular diet, supplied by the child's parents, she was given a smile and the boot.

"Thank you, we'll call you when we have decided anything."

Nathalie walked out of the clinic and the doctor gave her file to the receptionist. She saw him smiling and nodding and took that as a good sign.

* * *

Celine Agreste entered the fertility clinic at ten after one two weeks after Nathalie had visited. The receptionist sat at the front whiting out forms and dropping them in folders at the side of her desk. Music was streaming out of the computer; the chair squeaked as the woman bopped and smacked her gum.

"Excuse me," Celine smiled, "Could you help me?"

"Yes, ma'ma, one second." The receptionist took one last form and began whiting out the information. Celine glanced over to see what she was whiting out. They were names. This woman's name was Nathalie Sancoeur and she whited out MBA.

 _Wouldn't that be rich?_ Celine smirked.

"Okay, how may I help you?" she glanced up at Celine as she dropped the newly whited out folder on top of the others.

"I was called to pick up potential surrogate files for review."

The receptionist went to her newly deposited pile and grabbed the handful at the top, "You can have these. If any of them tickle your fancy, please present it to us upon your next visit. If you don't find any suitable candidates we will have new files for you to review at your earliest convenience."

"Thank you," Celine smiled sweetly and greedily took the files knowing that the top form was her target.

She hadn't definitely settled on the top one, really, but she did like knowing something about the applicant. Celine didn't like not knowing people; it was the extrovert in her. She liked to know who everyone was and how they played into her life. This was no different. She scanned through all the forms, but kept that one pulled out to the side. Nathalie's application fit the bill for everything they were looking for in a surrogate. She was well educated, passed all of her health screenings with flying colors, and possessed many qualities she highly prized. In addition, she agreed to eat a specialized diet for an additional fee. That was just icing on the cake; completely unnecessary, but it said a lot about her willingness to please.

Celine filtered through the pile and decided, yes, this first one would be perfect.

* * *

Nathalie got a phone call exactly one month after submitting her application to the fertility clinic.

"Mlle. Sancoeur, we have a couple interested in your services. Could you come in for your final screening?"

"When?"

"At your earliest convenience."

"Now is convenient," Nathalie glanced at her watch. She had to be in her afternoon class at four, but that was three hours out.

"Now would work. Thank you."

Nathalie arrived with a slight case of the jittery toes. They were contained and she maintained her professionalism as well as ever. The receptionist was warmly inviting.

"Good afternoon, Mlle. Sancoeur, Dr. Malone is expecting you."

Dr. Malone greeted her with a gesture to sit, per usual, "We have a potential couple interested in your services. I would like you to take their offer of compensation and incentives home so you can go over the legals before agreeing to anything."

Nathalie flipped open the folder and saw they were willing to pay top dollar; €50,000. "Sir, I do not need to take this home. I'm sure it is all fine. I would like to start this process as quickly as possible." She scanned through the documents, with her uncannily fast reading ability, and could determine it was all on the up-and-up. She'd been around enough legal documents to know what to look for and these looked legit.

His face split into a grin, "A woman after my own heart. Okay, I'll let them know. We can set up your implantation appointment at the reception desk."

Nathalie was nervous, sure, but now that her documents were all signed and in order there was no backing out.

"I need to set up an implantation appointment."

The receptionist, whose name she now realized was Reisa, smiled, "What would work best for you? You'll need a day before for prep, a day for the procedure, and a day for recuperation."

Nathalie grimaced. The only time available to her, with a three day vacation, was over Armistice. "Would the Armistice Holiday work?"

"Oh, absolutely," she smiled, "I'll set it all up. Have a wonderful day, Mlle. Sancoeur, and welcome to the family."

Nathalie scowled at the use of the term 'family.' She was not family. She was a hired womb to create someone else's family. Her own family, an overly affectionate bunch that she'd swear she wasn't related to if the DNA test hadn't come back affirmative, were all about throwing that word around flippantly. Nathalie didn't agree. Her opinion on family was that it had to be felt. You had to _feel_ like you were family in order to be called family; not blood or gestation. No, those things didn't mean anything to her.

* * *

The few weeks following the implantation had been uneventful for Nathalie. Her body had been reacting much like she would for ovulation or menstruation with the drugs they'd given her to prep her body before the procedure. Then she went through a pretty calm and uneventful couple weeks right after. Now, she was sitting on the edge of her bed with her head in her hands, unable to breathe. They called it 'rhinitis of pregnancy' and she wasn't an idiot. There was no need for a pregnancy test. Alas, the office demanded she come in for the appointment to verify it anyway.

"Ugh," she groaned, blowing her nose and sighing. Once she was there, they pulled out a needle and asked for a blood sample. She was more than willing to allow for the blood draw just to get it over with so she could go back to studying for her economics final. The results of 'you are definitely pregnant' was not a surprise.

She was given a folder with pamphlets from the biological parents. In it, there was a diet and preferences; they preferred born vaginally, limited medical intervention as far as drugs, no recreational drugs, take a vitamin daily, and eat right. Nathalie could handle all of those criterion. It included a stipend to supplement her grocery bills. Score!

Nathalie thought she could get used to this whole pregnancy thing. Not only was she getting a good chunk at the end, but she wouldn't have to stress out about not having food for groceries for the next eight months. That left her able to focus more on her studies; win-win.


	3. Chapter 3

  _I never asked to be his mother._ Nathalie grumbled as she looked over Adrien's permission slips. His senior class was taking a field trip at the end of the year and a palace visit to Versailles soon.

"Yes, yes, go!" she mumbled as she scratched her employer's signature over each dotted line. Then she glanced around and realized that she hadn't actually asked Gabriel if Adrien could go on these field trips. It was only a moment that she felt nervous, before she shrugged it off and gave a mental 'screw it.' She had about as much responsibility, and authority, over his activities these days as his own father. Gabriel was too busy to bother and Adrien had been given a lenient schedule, per his request, for his last year of school.

"Did he say yes?" Adrien's bright eyes and cheery voice chirped around the door at her.

Nathalie stood with the completed permission slips. Her eyebrow quirked and she smirked at him unperturbed, "I didn't really ask."

He held his finger to his lips and chuckled, "Shhh. Your secret is safe with me." Then he hugged her and exclaimed, "Thanks, Nathalie, you're the best."

She stiffened in his embrace, but managed to pat his back, "Don't mention it."

"I won't. I don't want you to get in trouble," he winked and ran out the front door, "I'm going to be late!"

"Then hurry," she mumbled after him.

* * *

Adrien flew into the classroom with his precious permission slips clutched in his hand, "I have these for you!" he exclaimed as he slid to a stop in front of the desk.

"Thank you, Adrien," Mme. Bouvier chuckled and received the papers. She scanned them and nodded, "I'll mark you as approved."

He took his seat next to Nino and tried to steady his breathing. He might be Chat Noir, but that run was a bit extreme for his civilian side. He took note: run more.

"So, dude, you're going to get to go on field trips with us this year? How the hell did you swing that?!"

"Apparently!" he grinned, "Nathalie arranged it all. Father wasn't there when I asked so she said she'd arrange it."

"Next time you should just ask Nathalie, man."

Adrien grinned, "I will!"

Marinette stumbled into the classroom a moment later, just as the bell was ringing. "Permission slips!" she sighed as she dropped them down on the desk up front.

"Okay," Mme. Bouvier announced as she gathered up the stack of permissions, "The due date for all signatures to go on field trips was this morning at the bell. Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, you are just on time. Please take your seat."

Marinette let out a sigh of relief. Mme. Bouvier was a real stickler for deadlines and Marinette had been dragging her feet with the permission slips. They had the entire week to get them signed and she just asked her parents that morning.

"Now, since we have them all, I'm going to assign your partners."

Adrien had never been on a school trip so he had no idea how this worked.

The teacher took her stack of forms and flipped them upside down. Then she picked the first two packets up and held them in front of her face so she could write them down. "In order of completion," she grinned, "Max and Sabrina. Chloe and Nathanael. Kim and Alix. Mylene and Ivan. Rose and Juleka. Nino and Alya. Adrien and Marinette."

Marinette's eyes widened. She thought for sure she'd be without a partner and have to pair off with Mme. Bouvier. Everyone knew Adrien didn't go on trips and everyone else had already been paired off. She gulped audibly as he turned around.

"Hey, looks like it's you and me, Marinette."

"Y-yeah," she nodded numbly, "I guess."

Adrien stared at her for an unnerving moment, as if thinking something over in his head. He frowned momentarily, before his eyes widened with an idea. He chuckled, "Hey, we should hang out or something some time to get to know each other better; maximize the fun we can have on these trips." Adrien really didn't know Marinette that well and he could only assume she didn't know much about him. Would she want to get to know him? He waited nervously for her answer.

Marinette wanted to groan. She was going to be awkward no matter what. Might as well spend more time with him to start so maybe there was a chance she'd be half-normal by the end, right?

She nodded, "Sure. Yeah. Okay." There was an airy sound to her voice, like it wasn't even her own, as the words tumbled out of her mouth. "Idea's good. It's a good idea."

Adrien visibly relaxed and grinned, "Great! My house? I can pick you up after school."

"O-okay," Marinette blinked and was suddenly aware of what he'd said. "Wait, what?"

"My house tonight?" he reiterated.

"I..."

"She'd love to," Alya cut in, "That's a great idea, Adrien. Hey, Nino, we should hang out at my house, tonight." She waggled her eyebrows at him and winked.

Adrien turned back to his work and smiled to himself.

Nino shot Alya a thumbs up, "Done!"

"See? It's easy, girl," Alya elbowed the now mostly comotose Marinette in the ribs.

She jumped and squeaked, "Ow. Alya." She hissed at her friend, "I don't know if I can do this. I feel like I'm going to throw up."

"Don't throw up," Alya warned, "That's not going to give him a good impression. Just be you, girl. You're amazing!"

"I'm...I don't know. I'm just so--what if I run into his father?"

Alya smirked, "Really, girl, glad to see you're getting your priorities in order. His dad is terrifying. That's what you should worry about."

"You're not helping."

Alya shrugged, "I'm trying. I'm deflecting for you. Just dress to impress his dad and then, if you don't even see him, no big deal, right? You won't even think about Adrien."

"That's what you think," Marinette grumbled. She'd be extra nervous now.

* * *

Nathalie approached Gabriel's office with full intention of confessing she'd signed all of Adrien's field trip forms. Although, as she approached his desk she was caught off guard as he presented her with a first edition, signed, copy of Leaves of Grass.

"Sir? I feel honored, but you realize this is an ode to a gay lover, right?" she smirked. If this was his attempt at flirting he was straying far from the mark.

"It's for Adrien," he nudged it towards her again.

"I'm not sure I follow. What is it for?"

He cleared his throat loudly and pulled at his collar. Gabriel nodded as if to say 'you know.'

Nathalie's eyes widened in surprise, "I presume he'd appreciate the gesture, if that were the case, but I'm pretty sure Adrien's not gay." Not necessarily straight, either, but she'd seen enough of his shrine to Ladybug to know he at least had a very strong inclination for women.

Gabriel looked up at her, suddenly, catching her gaze. She could see the confusion and curiosity, "He isn't?"

Nathalie snorted, but recovered her composure blindingly fast, "He's _your_ son, sir." The smirk that graced her face brought a blush to his own. Gabriel might have seemed reserved in his affection towards his wife and their son, but it was only because they didn't know how to interpret him. Nathalie could see there was plenty more to Gabriel than he let on and she could read him most of the time; more so than anyone. Luckily, it could also be taken as she was assuring him he knew his son better than she did, even though that one, wasn't the case, and two, wasn't what she meant by it.

Gabriel was not asexual...not entirely, anyway. Think gray appearance on the outside and very pink in his heavily reserved middle. That was Gabe Agreste and Nathalie knew it. It would have been much easier if his act was real and/or she bought it.

"Oh." He glanced down at his clasped hands that he hadn't realized were nervously fidgeting with a pencil. They disappeared quickly beneath his desk. He glanced around guiltily and cleared his throat to hide his discomfort. Gabriel Agreste, the forty-two year old virgin and exceedingly absent father of one.

Nathalie quirked an eyebrow and her smirk deepened. Adrien was a young version of Gabriel; Gabriel before he'd been eaten alive by an industry that was unforgiving and demanded his immediate maturity to survive. It was one that robbed him of his compassion for other people and radically crippled his already difficult path to a love life thanks to pressure from family. He'd never recovered, emotionally; a psyche badly damaged. The only difference, really, was that Adrien was the spitting image of his mother and hadn't been badly damaged...yet. Nathalie could see how it pained Gabriel to see so much of himself in the male version of his wife. His wife who had never really loved him. He found her rejection was what hurt the most. He didn't really love her, either, but they had to make it work for Adrien. Adrien needed a mother. He was so sure that if he could just bring her home, he could convince her that he could change and that she could be the mother Adrien needed.

"Will there be anything else?"

"No," he shook his head, "I suppose you could find a library to donate this to?" He held the book up to her.

She smiled, "I think you should keep it for your library. It is a delightful work and this is such a rare one it would be a shame to have it damaged by a library patron."

"Oh, Nathalie, they'd sell it to a collector and use the money," he scolded.

She huffed back at him, "If you wish." Nathalie started to leave when she heard Gabriel call after her, "I suppose you could put it with the other first editions."

Not able to stifle the smirk, she nodded and closed the door behind her. Gabriel was a sentimentalist; an aloof, vulnerability-fearing sentimentalist. He was such a paradox that Nathalie felt they were kindred spirits in that way alone.

* * *

"A friend is coming over to work on a project," Adrien said breathlessly as he ran up to Nathalie's desk.

School had just ended and he was full of energy, unlike normal. He usually hauled himself in the front door like home was the last place in the world he wanted to be and he'd been weighed down with sand or lead.

"Nino?" she guessed without looking up. He was always in a better mood when Nino came over, but he seemed even more giddy than usual.

"Marinette," Adrien panted, "I have to go shower. Could you call down to the kitchens and have something sent up?"

She glanced up at him curiously. _A girl, he said? Curious._ "What would you like?"

"I think she likes Mediterranean."

"Fish with spinach and a side order of ink pasta?"

"Hold the ink," Adrien wrinkled his nose, "What about a white sauce or something?"

"Alfredo it is," she nodded, "I'll have it sent up."

"Thanks, Nat! You're the best. Tell father I said hello," and he was off running up the stairs two at a time.

Nathalie stared at her processor and sighed. It was ridiculous that she was the one who had to tell his own father hello for him. Utterly and completely ridiculous. That would have to change.


End file.
